


Like Father, Like Son

by PeterParkers7EvilExes (antimone_ii), ru17



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Incest, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Denial, background gay uncles steve and tony, mean dom!Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 07:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18383384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antimone_ii/pseuds/PeterParkers7EvilExes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ru17/pseuds/ru17
Summary: “Peter,” Bucky snaps. “Get your hand off yourself this instant.”Peter presses his face flat against his pillow in defeat, looking utterly miserable. By the time Bucky’s already clean and fully dressed, the boy still hasn’t moved a muscle, so Bucky lowers his tone to a much more serious, threatening level and says, “If you’re not off that bed and fully dressed in two minutes, you won’t get to come until tomorrow night.”That does the trick, and Peter practically throws himself off the bed, heading for the bathroom with his head down.Bucky catches him before he gets that far, snaking an arm around his waist and pulling him into a gentle hug. “I’ll let you come after dinner, if you’re a good boy,” he promises, pressing a kiss to the boy’s head. Peter nods, and Bucky lets him go.“Peter,” he adds, once Peter sets foot in the bathroom, “leave the door open.”





	Like Father, Like Son

**Author's Note:**

> A fic collab between [PeterParkers7EvilExes](https://peterparkers7evilexes.tumblr.com/) and Ru.
> 
> **Warnings:** incest, underage, mean dom!Bucky, orgasm delay/denial

“Daddy-- _ahh_ , Daddy!”

Pounding his cock into his son's wet little hole, Bucky grunts as he comes hard, his cock twitching as he spills deep inside Peter’s ass. “That’s a good boy,” he murmurs, carding his fingers through Peter’s mussed hair and tugging his head upright so the kid can breathe. “Good boy, Pete.”

Peter shudders in a shallow breath, still grinding his skinny hips into the mattress as hard as he can. “Daddy, I wanna come,” he whines, blinking teary eyes up at Bucky.

Bucky merely chuckles, one hand still resting on the boy’s head and the other curled around his hip. “I know, baby,” he says, leaning in and kissing his cheek, gently. “You were such a good boy, I might just let you.”

Peter whines as Bucky slowly kisses down to the side of his neck, where he lightly teeths at the skin, still grinding his spent dick inside his son’s tight ass. “God, I wish I could mark you up,” he growls, sucking too softly to leave a hickey. “Wish I could let everyone know who you belong to.”

“Daddy,” Peter keens again, bucking his hips and almost dislodging his dad’s cock from inside him. “ _Please._ I need it so bad.”

“You’re going to have to wait a few minutes,” Bucky says. “You know the rules. You don’t come unless I’m inside you.”

“That’s not fair,” Peter cries petulantly, “I can’t wait that long, Daddy, please. Why do _I_ have to wait just because _you’re_ too old to -”

His words cut off into a cry of pain as Bucky brings his metal hand down on his bare ass with a loud, echoing _slap._ Bucky asks with some amusement, “What was that?” though there’s a firm edge to his voice that makes Peter shiver. When the kid doesn’t answer him immediately, Bucky brings his palm down again with another _slap_ , leaving a bright pink mark on the plump swell of Peter’s ass.

“Peter...” he growls, low and dangerous.

Peter rolls his face miserably into the pillows, his hips twitching into the mattress as he resists the need to rub his little cock against the sheets. “‘m sorry Daddy, I didn’t mean it,” he sniffles at last, his eyes wet with tears. “But... I wanna come,” he whines, squeezing tight around Bucky like he’s urging him back to hardness.

“You’ll have to wait,” Bucky says firmly, pulling his softening cock out slowly, watching as his come oozes, sticky and thick from Peter’s pink little rim. Ignoring Peter’s wretched sob of dismay, Bucky rolls off the bed and slaps his thigh. “C’mon, it’s dinner time. Uncle Tony and Uncle Steve are already waiting on us.”

Peter doesn’t move right away, but Bucky knows he needs a moment, so he heads for the attached bathroom and begins cleaning himself up. When there’s no sign of Peter coming to join him, Bucky subtly peeks his head into the bedroom and sees Peter still lying on his stomach, one hand under his hips, pressed between his body and the bed.

“ _Peter,_ ” Bucky snaps, startling the kid. “Get your hand off yourself this _instant._ ”

Another whine is his only response. Peter presses his face flat against his pillow in defeat, looking utterly miserable. By the time Bucky’s already clean and fully dressed, the boy still hasn’t moved a muscle, so Bucky lowers his tone to a much more serious, threatening level and says, “If you’re not off that bed and fully dressed in two minutes, you won’t get to come until tomorrow night.”

_That_ does the trick, and Peter practically throws himself off the bed, heading for the bathroom with his head down, trying to hide his red, wet face.

Bucky catches him before he gets that far, snaking an arm around his waist and pulling him into a gentle hug. “I’ll let you come after dinner, if you’re a good boy,” he promises, pressing a kiss to the boy’s head. Peter nods, and Bucky lets him go.

“Peter,” he adds, once Peter sets foot in the bathroom, “leave the door open.”

If possible, the kid’s shoulders slump even more, but he obediently leaves the door just slightly open, just enough that his dad can hear him being a bad boy if he tries.

As ordered, Peter is dressed and ready to go before the two minutes are up. Bucky nods approvingly at him before checking his phone, noticing that they’re already ten minutes late and with a text from Steve that says, _you guys still coming?_

Bucky replies shortly with, _on our way,_ before pocketing his phone and nodding to his kid. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, his face still slightly flushed, fidgeting in his spot from the erection Bucky knows is still pressed uncomfortably inside his jeans, though the boy’s baggy sweater is low enough to hide it.

“Come on, baby,” Bucky says and grins, sliding his hand around the boy’s shoulder and leading him out of the bedroom. “It won’t take that long.”

Tony and Steve greet them at their door, beaming and pulling them both in for a hug. “I left Tony in charge of dinner, so naturally we had to use a fire extinguisher and ended up ordering in,” Steve says with a wink. “Hope that’s all right.”

When that fails to get more than a watery chuckle out of Peter, Tony frowns, wrapping an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “Hey, you okay, kid?”

Peter nods, giving Tony a smile. “Yeah, long day ‘s all,” he mumbles. Bucky watches as Tony guides his son to the dinner table, nothing more than a fatherly gesture - but still, he sits down next to Peter and squeezes his thigh possessively.

As they sit down to eat, Bucky notices Peter still shifting uncomfortably in his seat, but as the conversation turns to robotics and the art piece Steve is currently working on, Peter slowly relaxes, his usual sunny demeanor returning as his uncles regale him with updates of their life. Despite his bratty behavior from earlier, Peter is nothing but polite now, smiling warmly at Bucky and helpfully passing the salt when asked - the perfect son.

He rewards Peter when Steve and Tony are fetching dessert from the kitchen, leaning over and gripping him by the back of the neck. “You’re being such a sweet boy,” he praises low into Peter’s ear, smiling when the kid shudders happily.

Peter turns to him, eyes wide and hopeful. “Daddy, can we--?”

“Little longer, baby,” Bucky cuts him off as Steve and Tony shuffle back in.

“You’re not trying to escape us already, are you, Pete?” Tony asks with exaggerated hurt.

“C’mon,” Steve wheedles, “we just got that new _Ghostbusters_ movie, I thought you were gonna keep us company!”

Peter nods at them, the perfect picture of obedience. “No, I wanna stay,” he insists, even as Bucky watches his hips squirm from side to side in desperation. Bucky rewards him with another firm squeeze to the back of the neck, not missing the wrecked little whimper Peter makes under his breath.

The kid tries his best to keep up with the conversation over dessert, but after that slight touch from his dad he’s reduced to a pile of nerves and neediness like he was earlier. Tony asks him more than once if he’s feeling okay, and Bucky, not wanting the torment to come to an end just yet, cuts in and insists that his son is just tired but perfectly fine, thank you.

Still, despite his reassurances Tony is abnormally concerned with Peter’s wellbeing as they finish eating and even afterwards. He _again_ wraps his arm around the kid’s shoulder when they get up from the table, and Bucky has to bite his cheek to stop himself from saying something as he politely helps Steve clean up from their meal.

But he can’t stop himself after, when they get back to the living room and he spots Tony and Peter on the couch, Tony lounging brazenly along the length of it with Peter nestled against him, lying between the man’s legs and resting against his chest. Bucky can tell from the way his son is curled slightly on his side that he’s still painfully, desperately hard, but doing everything in his power to keep _Uncle Tony_ from noticing it.

It takes him a second to regain composure. He takes a seat on the armchair while Steve slots himself on the end of the couch by Tony and Peter’s feet.

“Pete,” Bucky says, grabbing their attention. “You do look a little red, kiddo. Come here, let me make sure you’re not warm.”

Peter swallows and disentangles himself from Tony’s arms, shuffling over to the armchair and letting Bucky pretend to check his temperature. “Hmm,” Bucky says, cupping his face, jaw and neck, delighting in the way the boy shudders and fixes him with wide, pleading eyes. “Yeah, sweetheart, you are a little warm.” He holds his arms out invitingly, but narrows his eyes at Peter, warning him not to disobey. “Come here.”

Obediently, Peter crawls into his lap and lies against his chest, fidgeting slightly as his ass presses against his daddy’s crotch.

“Steve,” Bucky says, nodding to his friend. “Could you hand me that blanket?”

Steve nods and passes him the blanket from the back of the couch, lighting up the dark room with the TV as he turns the movie on and Bucky drapes the blanket across both his and Peter’s laps. Realizing what his dad plans to do, Peter squirms in his lap, squeaking when Bucky wraps a muscled arm tight around his middle.

Bucky chances a look across the room, but Steve’s squinting at the remote while Tony stretches his arms over his head and yawns. Satisfied, he presses his palm against the front of Peter’s jeans, shushing him quietly as he teases his trapped cock. Slow as to not alert Steve’s and Tony’s attention, Bucky slides under the waistband of Peter’s jeans and wraps his fingers around his hard little cock, smirking when Peter covers his mouth with the blanket to muffle a whimper.

He teases Peter like that for a while, making a ring with his thumb and middle finger and just slowly gliding up and down Peter’s length, torturing him with barely any friction. Peter’s fingers dig near painfully into his thighs but Bucky doesn’t let up, pretending he’s totally focused on the movie while he slowly jerks his son off.

“Daddy…” Peter pleads quietly during a loud part of the movie, rubbing the cleft of his ass against the bulge of Bucky’s hard cock.

Bucky pinches his thigh hard in warning, and Peter sniffles but falls quiet again. Still, he can’t resist much longer himself, so Bucky holds Peter tight around the waist and carefully slides the boy’s jeans lower down his hips, moving barely an inch at a time and watching Peter’s uncles out of the corner of his eye the whole time.

Peter’s trembling like a leaf at this point, so strung out and desperate, and he stares pleadingly at his dad, brown eyes glazed over with need. Bucky kisses his temple sweetly and sinks a metal finger into his hole, grinning when Peter spasms tight around his finger but stays quiet, even as the come Bucky left in him earlier trails warm and slippery down his thighs.

He thinks about teasing Peter a little longer but his cock aches to be inside that perfect heat again so he relents and takes himself out, popping the fly of his trousers just enough to pull his hard cock free.

Peter lifts himself up, pretending to rearrange the blankets higher around himself and wriggles his ass impatiently for his daddy, rubbing that hungry rim of his against Bucky’s cockhead. Biting down on a growl, Bucky wraps a hand tight around Peter’s hip and drags him down onto his cock, impaling him in one deep thrust. With the other, he covers the boy’s mouth tightly to keep his startled, overwhelmed gasp from escaping, and when Steve glances at them curiously Bucky pretends to simply be brushing Peter’s hair out of his face, stroking his red cheeks, gently.

He can feel the kid’s chest heaving against his own, and Bucky keeps one hand on his head, petting his hair and keeping his head upright as he mouths along the side of the boy’s face and neck, just out of Tony and Steve’s sight. Peter writhes in his lap, unbearably needy. Bucky smiles against his neck, leans into his ear and whispers, “Love when you get like this, baby boy. So hungry for Daddy’s cock. I’m going to pump you full, gonna keep coming in you till your belly’s swollen with your own brothers and sisters.”

Peter shudders, full-bodied and desperate. His fingers dig into his dad’s thighs as Bucky uses the hand around his hip to gently ease him up and down, using the boy’s hole like a sex toy. The pace is torture and maddening, and when Peter tries to reach for his own cock, Bucky swiftly bats his hand away and growls into his ear, “Did I say you could touch yourself?”

“Daddy, _please,_ ” Peter begs, his need still audible despite how quietly he’s whispering. “Please, I’ve been good, m’a good boy.”

Bucky kisses the side of his face again, pressing his lips against his temple as he continues the unbearably slow pace of rolling Peter’s hips up and down on his cock. “Just sit still and let Daddy use your hole,” he orders, “like the good little fleshlight you are.”

Peter goes completely lax in his lap, all except for his tense hands still buried into the meat of Bucky’s legs. At his son’s compliance and submission, Bucky starts pushing his hips up each time he pulls Peter down, jacking himself off using his son’s body. Peter is an absolute mess in his lap, but lets his Daddy use him like the perfect, good boy he is.

“These special effects are really something,” Steve says, making Peter flinch. “I’d love to give animation a try someday. Looks like it’d be a lot of fun.”

“You’d be great at animating, Stevie,” Bucky offers, deceptively calm and composed considering he’s buried all the way inside the boy in his lap.

“Can’t be any worse at it than you are at painting,” Tony jokes. Steve lightly punches him on the arm, and the two begin to banter back and forth, completely oblivious to Bucky fucking his own son under the blanket only a few feet away.

When Bucky feels his orgasm fast approaching, he bites into Peter’s shoulder to keep himself quiet and pins the boy down in his lap, keeping his cock buried balls deep as he makes good on his promise to pump him full. He can feel the tears streaming down Peter’s cheeks, falling onto his own face, and with a quick glance in Steve and Tony’s direction to make sure they’re not watching, he turns his head and licks a stripe up Peter’s cheek to lap his tears away.

Once the sweet, addictive haze of his orgasm lifts, Bucky eases Peter up so he can pull out. Peter gives him the most desperate, most heartbroken look ever as Bucky pulls his jeans back up over his neglected, weeping cock, but Bucky simply kisses him again, reaches down to fix himself, and gently pushes the boy to his feet.

“Hey, he’s really not feeling well,” he says to Steve and Tony, practically startling Tony awake from his light doze. “I think I’m going to take him to bed.”

“Oh no, Pete--” Steve starts, making to get up, but Bucky shakes his head, waving him back down.

“Don’t get up, really. Kiddo just needs some rest. C’mon Peter,” he says kindly, holding Peter to his side in a paternal hug. “Let’s get you to bed. Say good night to your uncles.”

“Good night Uncle Steve, g’night Uncle Tony,” Peter says meekly, shuffling to keep up with Bucky as he leads them out.

Peter is quiet and still tucked under Bucky’s arm, shivering occasionally and leaning heavily against his dad like he can barely hold himself up. As they take the elevator down to their floor, Peter whispers softly, “Please, Daddy…”

“Shh, baby boy,” Bucky murmurs, rubbing a thumb soothingly over Peter’s bony shoulders, smiling when the boy whines. “Daddy’s gotcha.” He waits until they make it into their own apartment and still, he takes his time carefully putting the keys away, pretending to check his phone for messages and shrugging his jacket off his shoulders.

When he turns around, Peter is still standing waiting by the door for him, his sweet eyes already wide and wet with fresh tears. “D- Daddy…” Peter begins again, his lower lip trembling.

Bucky looks him over appraisingly, his cock giving a valiant twitch in his pants. Peter’s face is flushed pink and his chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, and he looks on the brink of tears. He’s clutching the ends of his sweater tight, like he’s afraid his hands will fly to his cock if he lets go. “Show me,” Bucky orders, stalking in a circle around his son.

Peter obediently lifts the hem of his sweater, showing his dad where the tip of his cute little cock peeks out of the waistband of his jeans, a deep pink to match his face and slick with precome from being teased all night.

“Such a sweet boy for me,” Bucky says, trailing a metal palm up the smooth skin of Peter’s belly, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “You were so good during dinner, hm?” Knowing better than to talk right then, Peter just nods earnestly, his eyes wide. “But,” Bucky continues, his voice flinty, “I don’t know if that makes up for you being such a _brat_.”

Peter gives him a desperate little shake of his head, but Bucky ignores that. He steps behind his son and grips him around the waist, pushing a hand down the back of Peter’s jeans and rubbing at his wet, abused hole, dragging a wrecked whimper from him. “Maybe,” he murmurs, pushing one finger in, then two, playing with his come and letting it slip messy and sticky over his fingers, “I oughta fuck you again, then make you go to bed hard.” Peter whines high in his throat. “I can tie you up pretty to make sure you’re not playing with _this_ like a bad boy,” he snarls, his other hand grinding cruelly against the front of Peter’s jeans. “Maybe I ought to make sure you _learn_ your lesson.”

“Please!” Peter sobs, unable to hold it back, wilting in Bucky’s arms, “No, no Daddy, _please_ , I was-- I was a _good_ boy,” he hiccups, his voice high and tremulous, “you _said--_ you _said_ if I was a good boy I’d get to come--!”

“I did,” Bucky agrees coolly, letting the word hang in the air between them for a long, tense moment, listening to Peter pant and whimper. “...And you were.”

Peter goes utterly still, too afraid to move, speak, or even breathe, lest his dad changes his mind. Bucky lets him hang onto the implication desperately, before he smiles and gently coos, “I need to reward my baby when he’s good, don’t I?”

“Please,” Peter sobs.

“Shh,” Bucky shushes him, hands trailing up to grab the hem of the boy’s sweater and slowly pull it up, stripping it off him. “Hush, sweetheart. Let Daddy take care of you.”

Peter is a shivering wreck, but Bucky knows it’s not just from the cold. He runs his hands over his son’s bare torso, gently massaging up his sides, his slender chest, and finally running his fingers over his already hard nipples and grinning when Peter whines and bucks his hips, but stays obediently still.

“Good boy,” Bucky says slowly, cruelly trailing his hands lower, practically ghosting over his skin. “My good boy.”

“All yours,” Peter says breathlessly, with nothing short of absolute devotion. “Yours, Daddy, I’m your good boy.”

“Hmm.” Bucky’s hands stop at the waistband of Peter’s jeans, toying with the material lightly, thumbing over the belt. “Only mine, Pete?”

A desperate nod is his only response. Peter’s hands are spread wide open at his sides, like he’s seconds away from grabbing himself. “Yes, Daddy, yes, only yours.”

“We’ll see.”

Bucky undoes his son’s belt, opening it so he can ease his jeans down his skinny hips and all the way to his ankles. Peter whines and fidgets as the cool air runs over his skin, his weeping, aching cock bobbing once it’s freed. Peter steps out of his rumpled jeans without being told, and Bucky puts his hands on his shoulders and turns him around to face him.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Pete,” Bucky whispers, leaning down to take his son’s lips with his own, kissing him deeply. “You’re going to tell me about all the _naughty_ thoughts you had while we were at Uncle Tony’s and Uncle Steve’s.” He kisses the boy’s lips, cheek, jaw and neck, then sinks down to his knees, commanding all his son’s attention even as he stares up at him. “And you’re going to be honest. If you leave anything out, you won’t get to come tonight. If you _lie,_ you won’t get to come tonight _or_ tomorrow night.” He cups the boy’s cock around the base, not looking away from his eyes as he gives it a few light, easy strokes. “But if you’re a _good boy..._ if you’re honest, and you tell Daddy every thought that went through your pretty little head…” He leans in, still staring up at him as he runs his tongue over his cock and gently sucks the tip into his mouth. Peter keens loudly and fists his hands in his dad’s hair, then lowers them meekly to his side when the man narrows his eyes at him.

“If you’re good…” he promises softly after pulling his mouth off his son’s cock, “...Daddy will fuck you, just the way you like it, and then I’ll make you come, again, and again…” he sucks him back into his mouth, sucking just barely too lightly, watching Peter cry and fall apart from the torture, “...and again. Does that sound good, baby?”

Peter nods frantically, tears in his eyes and fists white-knuckled at his sides.

“Good. In that case…” Bucky gives him a few light pumps, keeping him just on the edge without letting him fall off. “Tell Daddy what was going through your mind when you were laying in Uncle Tony’s lap.”

“Um.” Peter wrinkles his nose adorably in confusion, addled with lust. “I wanted… I wanted to come.”

It’s the truth, but Bucky pushes for more. He blows lightly on the head of his sensitive tip, watching as Peter squirms at the sensation. “I’m gonna need you to be more specific, Peter.”

Peter’s face twists up in anguish and Bucky leers, knowing he’s got him. “I wanted to go home so I could have Daddy’s cock,” he says, his voice a little too even.

Bucky pinches at his tight balls, a steely look in his eyes. “I thought you wanted to come tonight,” he says coldly.

“I was-- I was mad at Daddy!” Peter blurts out, hiding his face in his hands in shame. The hurt that spikes through Bucky’s heart isn’t totally unexpected, but he’d asked for it, and he nods, giving Peter an encouraging lick at his cock. “I just wanted to come,” he hiccups miserably, “and Uncle Tony was cuddling me, and… and it felt good.” At Bucky’s expression, he goes on. “How he was holding me. Felt safe, like-- like when you hold me.”

He gazes at Bucky imploringly through wet eyelashes, looking like a kicked puppy.

“ _Every_ thought that went through your mind, baby,” Bucky coaxes, kissing the wet cockhead.

Peter struggles to collect himself, drawing in a shaky breath. “Thought about-- about Uncle Tony fucking me,” he whispers, his cheeks bright pink. “Thought about you and Uncle Steve… walking in, seeing Uncle Tony using me. Like his little f- fleshlight.”

“ _Good_ boy,” Bucky hisses, sucking the head of Peter’s cock into his mouth and sucking just a bit - enough to make Peter’s knees buckle and draw a weak moan out of him. “Would you lie there, like a good little toy? Beg Uncle Tony for his fat dick?” He licks a slow, languid stripe up the underside of Peter’s cock, smirking when precome dribbles helplessly from his slit.

Shuddering out an exhale, Peter shakes his head, watching Bucky with wide eyes. “I’d ride him,” he squeaks as his dad strokes down the length of him and sucks at his tip, “He’d tell me what a slut I am, how greedy my c- cunt was.” Bucky rewards him with a long, hard suck, laving his tongue along his tip, pulling off just as Peter tries to jerk his hips forward.

“Such a slutty boy,” Bucky croons, holding him still, “fucked within an inch of your life and you’d still be gagging for any cock you could get your hungry little paws on, huh?”

“Jus’ want yours Daddy,” Peter wails, shaking his head vehemently.

“That’s good, baby, ‘cause I don’t plan on sharing.” He runs his hands up Peter’s slender legs, massaging his hip bones and waist as he kisses languidly at the soft skin around his twitching, neglected cock. “Keep going, baby. There you were, laying on your poor unsuspecting uncle, fantasizing about your Daddy and Uncle Steve walking in and seeing you riding his cock like a hungry, desperate slut…”

Peter whimpers, his hips bucking in Bucky’s hands. Bucky holds him still, refuses to let him thrust helplessly the way he wants to. “W-Wanted--” Peter whines, tears streaking down his face. “Wanted Daddy to get mad. F-For making me mad, earlier. Wanted you to s-see me loving Uncle Tony’s cock and--” He hiccups, squeezing his eyes together, his whole face bright red with shame. “--And I wanted you to t-take me back. By force.”

“ _Naughty_ little boy,” Bucky hisses, digging his fingers into Peter’s hips and making him whimper. “You love making Daddy mad, and then you cry and whine when I punish you. Kinda sends me mixed signals, Pete.”

“I’m _sorry,_ ” Peter sobs.

“You would have been,” Bucky promises darkly. “Do you know what would have happened if I walked in on you riding his cock, Peter?”

Peter gazes down at him with wide, terrified eyes, and shakes his head.

“I would have pinned to his chest, held you both down.” He massages the sore, red indentations his fingers left in the boy’s hips as he murmurs softly, but coldly, “I would have kept you still and helpless between us, made sure you couldn’t fight or escape as I lined up my cock with your greedy little hole.”

Wrapping a loose, gentle hand around the boy’s shaft, Bucky jacks him off lazily, keeping his cock weeping and aching so torturously. “And oh, you would have tried to fight it at first, baby. You’ve never taken anything bigger than Daddy’s cock. But I’d show you exactly how much that slutty fuckhole of yours can take as I push inside you, impaling you on both our cocks.”

“Oh, God –“ Peter gasps, his knees giving out, “ _Dad,_ please – ”

“Ah-ah,” Bucky scolds, not letting the boy collapse and pushing him back up to his feet. “We’re not done yet, kiddo.”

Whimpering, his entire body shaking like a leaf, Peter forces himself to stand as straight as he can, hands fisted at his sides, tears running down his face, his poor little cock red and wet and begging for attention.

“I would have fucked you until you couldn’t move, baby. Till you were just a cockstupid fucktoy who didn’t know any better. I’d show your uncles how to _really_ fuck you, how to reduce you to a crying mess like you are right now, and then when I was done with you, I’d leave you with them. Let them keep you as their pretty little toy to warm their cocks.” He stops stroking him, watches as Peter fights with everything in him to keep himself still. He does, because he’s such a _good boy. Bucky’s_ good boy.

“I’d let them use you however they wanted, baby, but on one condition.”

Peter’s lips tremble as he stares back down at him through his big dark eyes.

“They wouldn’t let you come.”

Peter collapses into his arms, not able to hold himself up anymore, and sobs into his shoulder, desperately. “Dad, I can’t, I can’t – please, Daddy, I can’t anymore. S’too _much._ ”

“Shh,” Bucky soothes, holding him, kissing the boy’s hair as he cradles his head and strokes his back. “I know, baby, you’ve been so good. Such a good boy. Come on,” he says, scooping the boy up into his arms bridal style, cooing sweet words at him as he carries him to the bedroom.

He sits himself at the headboard and settles Peter on his lap, cradling him to his chest and kissing all over his face. He reaches between them to pull himself out, pushing his pants down his thighs so his cock can bob free, the engorged length of it slapping lewdly against Peter's ass. The boy whines, snuffling into Bucky's throat as he guides his thick cockhead between his legs and notches the wet tip against Peter's sensitive rim.

“Please, please please _please_ ,” Peter chants breathlessly, curling his fingers in Bucky's shirt. His pink lips part in a soundless gasp as Bucky pops the head in, nice and slow, spearing his boy open on his cock as he gently lowers him down in his lap, peppering his cheeks with gentle kisses the whole time.

Peter buries his face in his dad's chest, huffing out sweet moans as Bucky pushes himself in inch by inch. Bucky groans as Peter's well-used hole squeezes him just right, two loads of his come squelching wet and sloppy around his cock. “You feel so good, baby,” Bucky growls, licking and kissing the shell of his ear, grunting as Peter shivers and spasms tight around his cock. “You're all mine, aren't you?”

Nodding weakly, Peter mouths at his dad’s throat, like he’s searching for his lips but can’t quite gather the strength to lean up. Bucky cups him at the back of his head and kisses him, licking into his mouth tenderly as he begins to rock Peter in his lap, cradling him as he fucks his hungry little hole. Bucky plants his feet into the mattress and leans back against the headboard, slowly pumping his cock in and out of Peter’s ass. “Still so sweet and tight for me,” Bucky murmurs into Peter’s lips, rocking the boy in his lap into each firm press of his cock. “You’re my perfect boy, Pete, so good for me.”

Peter sobs, squeezing tight around his dad and earning himself another kiss. “All yours, ‘m all yours Daddy, jus’ yours!”

“That’s right,” Bucky rumbles, pistoning his cock harder into his boy, watching as a fresh spurt of precome leaks from the head of Peter’s neglected little dick. “Think you can come just like this? Come on Daddy’s cock, like my good boy?”

With a breathless little whine, Peter nods, tears spilling down his flushed cheeks. “Yeah, please Daddy, please lemme come, ‘m a good boy, I wanna come-- wanna come on your cock Daddy, _please_ \--!”

Unable to hold back now, Bucky throws his son down onto the mattress, ignoring the mournful wail Peter makes as his cock slips free. He grabs Peter’s bony knees and pins them to his shoulders, only marvelling at his endless flexibility for a moment before he sheaths his cock back inside that delicious wet heat, pumping hard and fast, drilling his boy into the mattress until Peter’s gasping in time with his thrusts, every little moan fucked out of him by his dad’s relentless cock.

Peter’s toes curl as he nears his orgasm, and he clutches at Bucky like he’s drowning in sensation. “Gon’ come-- _Daddy_ , can I please, please-please- _please_ Daddy, _please_ let me come,” he mewls, dark eyes blown wide and shining with need.

“Go on, baby,” Bucky growls, grinding his thick cock as deep as he can get inside his son, “been such a good boy, go on and come for Daddy, sweetheart.”

Sobbing in relief, Peter lets himself go - his back arches like a taut bowstring off the bed, crying brokenly as he comes - his hole clamps down almost painfully tight around Bucky’s cock, locking him in balls deep as Peter crests his orgasm, and he comes all over himself, his release shooting across his shuddering chest and smearing over his face in messy streaks.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Bucky curses, rutting his cock into that warm little hole in quick, shallow thrusts, and he crushes his lips against Peter’s as he comes too, pumping his third load into his son.

Peter pants and gasps exhaustedly against his lips, but Bucky doesn’t pull away, just continues to kiss his son as he rides out his orgasm, not stopping even when Peter squeals from the overstimulation and starts weakly pushing at his shoulders.

“Shh, shhh,” Bucky soothes gently, softly running his hands through the boy’s hair. “You’re okay, baby. You’re all right.”

“S’too much,” Peter whines, come and tears painted all across his face. “Daaad...”

Bucky kisses his cheek, nipping lightly at the flushed skin of the boy’s neck before slowly, gently easing out of him. Peter groans, but lays there limply, too tired to even wipe his own face.

But he still manages to lift a hand and grab Bucky’s shirt when he tries to get up. “Daddy, no, stay,” he whimpers.

“I’m just getting a towel, baby,” Bucky says, leaning back down and kissing him. “I’ll just be a second.”

Peter reluctantly lets him go, so Bucky grabs a damp cloth from the adjoined bathroom and then crawls back into bed, maneuvering Peter so he’s lying the right way and then pulling him into his arms, lightly kissing his hair, face and lips as he runs the cloth over him, cleaning him up.

“I love you so much, Peter,” he whispers gently, kissing the boy’s forehead as he wipes away the come splattered on his cheek. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me. Was I too rough with you today?”

Peter sleepily shakes his head, already beginning to doze off. “No,” he mumbles, cheek resting on his dad’s chest. “I liked it.” He turns his head to nuzzle his face into Bucky’s neck, and as he falls asleep, he quietly adds, “I love you too, Dad.”

Bucky smiles to himself, wrapping his son warm and safe in his arms as he pulls the blankets over them. He basks in the perfect, euphoric sensation of holding his boy, like he always has, cradling him and feeling his small chest rise and fall against his own. This is his favorite part. He’ll never get tired of fucking Peter, but this - this he couldn’t live without.

Bucky’s about to close his eyes when he sees a flash of light from the bedside table. It’s Peter’s phone, still there from earlier today where he left it. It’s odd that anyone would be texting him at this late hour, so curiosity gets the better of Bucky and he reaches over to grab it, careful not to jostle Peter and wake him up.

He’s shocked to see it’s a text from Tony.

But not as shocked as he is when he reads it.

_Thanks for coming to dinner, kid. Let’s do it again soon._ Then, beneath it, almost forebodingly: _Hope your daddy went easy on you._


End file.
